Friday, oh Friday

Fridays are the most peculiar of days. Anticipation for the weekend usually meets with the disappointment of not having anything to do and uneventful Friday nights seem as blasphemous as the Yankees moving to Boston or me saying I love the 49ers.

In college Fridays meant nothing because every night was a Friday night and the partying only stopped when the beer ran out, and even then there were drunks who continued to drink the electricity of college freedom, dialing every girl’s number in their phone, refusing to give up until the dawn came to shed light on their loneliness. And even lonely in college meant nothing because there was always the next day. And there was always another girl. And Keg-N-Bottle opened at 10am to the joy of collegiate alcoholics defying class to play beer pong in the middle of a Tuesday, on the beach or in some god forsaken living room where empty beer cans and trash are far more abundant than the motivation to clean the mess.

Fridays post college are much different. They require planning. They require taxis and $10 drinks poured into Dixie cups. No Fridays are within walking distance anymore. No Fridays are like college. Nick, already intoxicated, won’t blast through the unlocked front door like Kramer. Ana and Karen will not come down and take shots with us. And I do not have my skateboard to load racks of beer onto like my college days when I would ride down the street sitting on my beer which sat on my skateboard, holding crutches in my hands used to propel me forward as cars passed and honked, yelling Where’s the party?! if they were guys and Can I have a beer? if they were girls because girls always got free drinks from me then.

Isle Vista is only a few hours away from LA. If I made the drive I could say I spent Friday night back in college. But it would not be the same. All my friends would be gone and I would be the creepy old guy trying to get into parties and drink beer for free. So I will stay in my apartment and call Grant to see if Huntington has Friday nights and will hopefully find myself down south where the claustrophobic shadows of high risers and smog is a little less dense and obtrusive.

I will drink 90% less alcohol than I had to in college to achieve a buzz. My mind and stomach will be happy. And the morning will be thankful that I am not greeting it with vomit.